9. Rosalina
9
Rosalina
T he night passes in a fitful half-sleep. I curl myself into a ball in the corner of the cell and will myself not to cry.
None of this should be possible. The realm of the fae can’t actually exist. Had all Papa’s theories been grounded in reality? What had my mother told him before she left? Something shimmers inside me. All this time, I’d never once asked him why he was so certain Mom had been taken by faeries. Now I wish I had one more moment to speak with him.
Maybe this is all some nightmare I’ll wake up from. But every time I open my eyes after squeezing them shut and desperately hoping I’ll wake up in my own bed, I’m met with my cold cell. And I can barely see even that, the night being so dark.
With no light, it makes the noises even more horrifying. Somewhere nearby, a creature howls over and over again. I clutch my ears so tight, trying to block out the horrific sound. It isn’t like a normal dog’s howl, but like a tortured wolf, a being torn between life and death. I am too terrified to even move.
Sometime during the night, I fall asleep and awake to soft light flitting through the slit of a window in my cell. My body is so sore from sleeping on the hard ground, and I’m covered in goosebumps. I stand up and look out the window.
Wow. I can see for miles up here. And these purple-black thorns… They cover everything as far as I can see. They intertwine with a rushing river and twist into the dark forest beyond. And above the forest, tucked into the mountain, the brambles seem to be covered in something red.
Roses?
I came from my realm through a rosebush. Could that be my way home?
That mysterious goblin-killer sure carried me a long way…
My vision swims when I look down. I must be five stories up, at least. Down below, there’s the bridge that leads out to the briars. After that, it would be about navigating the thin narrow path to the rosebush.
Did the master of the castle keep his word and return my father safely? There was something hauntingly sorrowful in his gaze, a darkness unlike anything a human could possess. I can only hope the word of the fae is true.
It was one of Papa’s many rules he would mutter: never make a bargain with the fae. But what I’d said to the master wasn’t a bargain, but a necessity to keep my father alive.
If Papa is home, I have to make it to him. Whatever vow I made to Keldarion doesn’t matter. I will not spend the rest of my life in a cold cell with only a bucket to shit in.
I have to escape.
There’s no sense of time in my cell, but I assume several hours pass as I fiddle uselessly with the padlock. I’m pretty good with locks—the one benefit of having a paranoid father who changed the house locks every month and always forgot to give me a key—but this is totally beyond me and my two hair pins. My arms ache from reaching around the cell and pressing my entire body into the bars to get the best angle. I haven’t seen or heard any signs of life since waking up. Maybe Keldarion totally forgot he put me in here, and I’ll starve to death.
With a growl of frustration, I fling myself back from the bars and stagger to the window. It’s not fair. The bridge is right below me and thick, sturdy brambles claw up the side of the tree-castle. If I could crawl out this window, I bet I could climb down, sprint across the bridge, and lose myself in the briar. I’d rather take my chances with the goblins than the monster that calls himself master. I was calling for Papa before. If I could sneak through in the daylight, I may go undetected.
But my window is barely wide enough to fit an arm through. I clutch the sill with my hands and hang my head. Tears creep down my face. How stupid I am to even entertain the idea I could escape from a fae prison. I’m going to be stuck here until I wither up and die. If this damned window was a little bigger—
“W-what?” I leap back. The border of the window glows a shimmering rose gold. And then the stone shifts, the bricks rearranging upon each other until the window…
It’s wider.
Big enough for me to fit through.
“What the fuck happened?” I turn on my heel, half-expecting to see some fae wizard outside my cell. But there’s nothing. Just me, bathed in the brilliant sunlight.
I take a tentative step toward the window. Wind rushes up, blowing my dark hair away from my face. Yep, I can definitely fit through.
Climbing down five stories of bramble bushes isn’t an insane idea, is it? I look back to the hallway outside my cell. Further back in the dungeon, the man with the huge iron collar is probably still sitting there, helpless. I wish I could free him, but I can’t do anything stuck in my cell. Maybe when I get home, I can think of a way to rescue him.
“Thanks, Castle,” I whisper and push myself onto the ledge of the window.
Okay, now that I’m up here, I’m not sure I love this idea. One wrong move and I’ll be impaled by a thousand thorns. I stretch my foot out to test one of the thick brambles clinging to the wall of the castle. It seems sturdy enough, but they haven’t had to deal with all of this woman before.
Orca Cove is waiting for me. All my hopes and dreams. My library, Papa… Lucas.
A painful breath surges through my throat. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.
Suddenly, one bramble extends and hovers right below me. A footrest.
“Great. A sentient thorn.” I sigh. “I must not fear.”
With the Dune mantra playing in my head, I turn around so my knees are on the window and I’m facing into my cell. I brace my hands on either side and lower my foot onto the bramble.
It holds. Okay. My whole body shaking, I lower my other foot onto the bramble. I haven’t plummeted to my death Mufasa-style yet, so that’s something. Next step: hand grips. I reach over with my right hand and find a sturdy branch, careful to steer clear of the huge thorns. Then I maneuver my body away from the window and grasp tightly to brambles.
Suddenly, the window emits a shimmering glow and shrinks again. Alright, guess I’m all in now.
Look at me. The girl who barely passed gym class scaling the side of a castle like I’m mother-fucking Robin Hood. Though I’m sure Robin Hood never had to worry about his pretty scarf getting tangled on outrageously huge thorns or his thick thighs shaking with each step.
Hand, foot. Hand, foot. Hand, foot. Each movement is agonizingly slow as I carefully descend the makeshift ladder. I don’t dare look at how close I am to the bridge. All I can concentrate on is one movement at a time. A huge gust of wind blows, and I scream, the brambles pulling away from the castle in a deadly crescendo. I hold on, slamming against the strange mix of stone and bark.
“I can do this,” I strangle out and continue descending.
Hand, foot. Hand, foot. Hand, foot. Hand, foo—
“Aah!” I scream as a bramble breaks beneath my weight. I lose grip and fall, my body tearing against the thorns as I slide down, down, down.
I smack hard against stone. Blinking in disbelief, I take in a shaky breath, realizing I’ve landed on the bridge. It was right below me.
“I’m alive!” I give a maniacal laugh. The window is barely in sight above me. Damn, I climbed far. Take that, Ms. Kimmer, and your ‘lack of participation in gym’ comment on my report card.
I spin around and face the briar. No sign of Keldarion. This is my chance.
Freedom.
My hair and scarf fly behind me as I sprint forward. I run faster than I ever have in my life, careening toward the bramble-covered statues. I’m scraped and bruised from the fall, muscles tight and sore, but I’m alive and I’m free, I’m free, I’m free—
Suddenly, something steps out from behind the statue and slams into me.